


The Garden

by keeperofthefour



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gardening, Other, Sarean needs a garden and a friend, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26940958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeperofthefour/pseuds/keeperofthefour
Summary: Early spring. Saeran began his work just after dawn while the dew was still settled on the grass. The morning sun shone brilliantly, each drop of moisture shimmering in the light like diamonds. Armed with a shovel, a flat full of sprouts he’d been growing inside for the last two weeks, and a bottle of water, he made his way to the small patch of lawn that he and Saeyoung had agreed would be the garden. It wasn’t large, as there wasn’t a lot of green space on Saeyoung’s property to begin with, but it would do the trick.
Kudos: 5





	The Garden

  
  


He had always wanted a garden of his own.

Even as a child, during the rare moments he found himself outside– the sun warming his cold, pale skin– he was fascinated with the various blooms and buds he saw in his mother's back yard. Dandelions and wild violets that sprinkled the lawn in the springtime; clover and chickweed in the summer that he would gather in bunches and shove into his pockets with sweaty palms, his fingernails caked with dirt. 

Later, he plucked peonies and lilacs from the neighbor's garden and would lie in the grass with the pilfered treasures pressed in his face, inhaling the intoxicating scent until Saeyoung returned home. His brother's return usually meant their mother would be home soon, too, so he would hurry inside and resume his place under the kitchen table, awaiting the next round of punishment. 

It depended, always, on how drunk she was. Or– if not drunkenness– stress from work. Or drama with her friends. Whatever it was, she took it out on her boys, especially Saeran. He was the weaker of the two, and didn't have the courage to talk back to her. Nor did he have the strength to fight back when she beat him. And she did so often, at least three times a week. Saeyoung was charged with keeping watch to make sure no one came into the house while it happened. He was instructed to sit on the porch and pretend to read a book, headphones on to drown out the sound of his brother being thrown around for something he didn't do. The boys would later discover the truth behind their mother's hatred, though it certainly didn't justify it. 

When Saeyoung left, the beatings got worse, until Rika and Jihyun insisted that their mother allow him to attend church school. She was afraid, then, that his marks would be visible, so the beatings became less frequent, which meant her verbal abuse increased. She called him every degrading name she could think of. Told him he was worthless, that even his own father didn’t want him because he was so weak and stupid. In the meantime, he began studying computer programming– just like his brother, unbeknownst to him– and Rika whisked him away to Mint Eye to “heal” him...and exploit his talents.

His reunion with his brother was a bittersweet affair, and it took the men several months to adjust to a new normal. Both of them had a great deal of trauma to heal from, and the journey– though necessary– was long and arduous, full of arguments and tears and pain. Ultimately, they found their rhythm, and together with Saeyoung’s fiance, they created a life together. It may not have been the most conventional arrangement, but it worked for them. And that’s all that mattered. As long as they were moving forward, away from their tragic past, they were making progress.

  
  
  
Early spring. Saeran began his work just after dawn while the dew was still settled on the grass. The morning sun shone brilliantly, each drop of moisture shimmering in the light like diamonds. Armed with a shovel, a flat full of sprouts he’d been growing inside for the last two weeks, and a bottle of water, he made his way to the small patch of lawn that he and Saeyoung had agreed would be the garden. It wasn’t large, as there wasn’t a lot of green space on Saeyoung’s property to begin with, but it would do the trick.

The work felt good. There was something primal, satisfying about digging. Saeran wasn’t strong by any means, and half an hour in, his muscles were screaming at him, beads of sweat pouring down his forehead as he worked. He fell into a trance-like state, almost completely unaware of his surroundings. Dig down just deep enough to break the grass roots. Rip out the turf, toss it into the pile. Rinse, repeat. Over and over until he had a good sized rectangle shaped patch. He stood back for a moment, leaning against the shovel to survey his work, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. He’d been so engrossed in his work that he failed to notice the boy on a bicycle that rode back and forth on the sidewalk in front of him. Every three or four minutes he would whiz by, stealing quick looks at the strange man with blazing red hair. Unbeknownst to Saeran, the boy desperately wanted to ask what he was doing, though he was a bit intimidated. But when Saeran paused to rest, he happened to glance up just as the kid crash-landed in the lawn, scraping his knee on the edge of the concrete sidewalk.

The boy groaned, embarrassed, and clambered away from his bike. He sat on the sidewalk for a moment, drawing his knee up to inspect the scrape, licking away the tiny droplets of blood that surfaced.

Saeran watched him with a bored, uninterested expression. He was still trying to catch his breath when the boy looked over at him and scowled.

"What are you looking at?" he sneered, hugging his knee into his chest and blowing lightly on the tender skin.

Saeran's eyes widened for a split second, then he looked away, a little embarrassed for some reason, though he couldn't figure out why. “Nothing.”

“Then piss off, weirdo. Stop staring.” 

“Wow. Does your mom know you talk like that?” Saeran asked, amused and intrigued now. The boy had a sharp tongue and a bad attitude, something Saeran wholeheartedly related to. This small moment suddenly changed the playing field. Saeran laid his shovel down in the grass and approached him as a person might come upon a stray dog. Tentatively, slowly, holding up his hands in surrender. “You need a bandage? I think my brother has some in the house.”

“I  _ said, Piss. Off.”  _ The boy jumped to his feet and straddled his bike, giving Saeran another scowl. “What are you doing, anyway?” he narrowed his eyes and nodded toward the small patch of dirt. 

“Making a garden. Just clearing out the grass for now.” Saeran raised a brow. “Why do you care? I thought you wanted me to leave you alone.”

With a huff, the boy pushed off. Once he had pedaled a few feet away, he turned and yelled “Weirdo!” over his shoulder before leaning forward, determined to break the land speed record on his way back home.

Nothing got planted that afternoon. Saeran was still weaker than he would have liked, and his body grew exhausted quickly. Feeling defeated, he returned the flat of seedlings to their window seat inside the living room and retreated to the bathroom for a warm soak in the tub. He enjoyed quiet moments alone that allowed him time to be with his thoughts and not have to answer the almost constant barrage of questions from Saeyoung and his fiance. He soaked until the water turned cold and he nearly fell asleep, then retreated to his room quietly to dress, read, and take a nap.

A few hours later, he awoke to a quiet knock at his door and Lucia’s soft voice. “Saeran? Can I come in?”

He cleared his throat and sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah. Door’s unlocked.”

She came in holding a plate of dinner leftovers and set it on his nightstand. “Saeyoung said not to wake you for dinner, but I saved this for you. I was worried when he said you worked so hard outside today.” Her gentle, honey-colored eyes searched his face and he offered her a weak smile before stifling a yawn behind his fist. He wasn’t sure why she still cared so much for him. He’d been nothing but rude and unaccepting of her relationship with his brother, and she didn’t owe him a thing. But here she was, being kind and selfless as always, lingering in his doorway as if there was something else she wanted to say. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders and smiled a bit sadly, her hand settled on the doorknob. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

He ate in silence after she had closed the door, secretly grateful for her compassion and her cooking skills. If it weren’t for Lucia, he and Saeyoung would subsist entirely on potato chips and instant noodles. As it were, they were treated to home-cooked meals nearly every night, even after she worked a full day at their custom toy shop, managing inventory and making sales. She was a true miracle worker, and though Saeran wouldn’t outright praise her with words, he was thankful, always, for her steadfast kindness. 

~

The next morning began very much the same as the previous. Saeran was determined to get the seedlings in the ground, and the weather forecast promised more sun and warm weather, so he wanted to get an early start again. He spent a good majority of the morning on his knees in the grass, trowel in hand, working the soil until it crumbled, soft between his fingers. It was better therapy than any of the psychiatrists Saeyoung had paid for, more potent than any medicine he took. The poignant, earthy smell of the dark soil, the sharp scent of the grass as he tore the roots away. It was cathartic. It was exhausting.

It was exhilarating. 

Saeran lost track of time, and before he knew it, he was a sweating, filthy mess...but he had a beautiful spot of earth to finally start planting. It must have been around noon, as the sun blazed almost directly overhead. He tossed the trowel to the side and flopped back into the grass, arms and legs splayed wide, eyes closed against the orange glow of the sun. Something akin to a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, and for the first time in a long time, he felt peace. 

“Hey.” He thought he heard a soft voice calling to him, but it sounded so far away it felt like a dream.

“I said, ‘Hey’, mister!” The voice was louder this time and came accompanied by a sharp jab to his ribs. He bolted upright, scrambling in the opposite direction of his attacker. 

“ _ What?”  _ Saeran retorted, suddenly on edge, defensive. 

The boy laughed lightly. “Geez, man. Calm down. I just thought you were dead or somethin’.”

Heart pounding in his chest, breathing rapid, Saeran scowled. “Yeah, well, I’m not. So get lost, will ya? Why do you keep coming around here, anyway?”

The boy’s shoulders slumped, toes tapping the sidewalk as he balanced his bike between his legs. His face reddened, and he muttered something unintelligible. “...sucks.”

Saeran felt himself beginning to relax, his fight-or-flight instinct slowly being replaced by a growing curiosity. “What sucks? Speak up.”

A heavy sigh. “My mom. She sucks. I ride my bike all day to get away from her.” His face turned a deeper shade of crimson and it looked like he might have begun to cry. Saeran rolled his eyes and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing dirt across his skin in the process. He reached over and pulled the flat of seedlings closer and popped one of the plants out of its pod. Grabbing his trowel, he dug a small hole and placed the seedling inside; he finished by pressing the excess earth in around the tiny stem, then settled back and admired his work.

"How many of those do ya gotta do that to?”

Saeran shrugged. “I never counted. I think there’s about two dozen in the flat, though.” He pulled out another seedling and repeated the cycle, content to continue planting and being watched.

“My name’s Sam,” the boy said matter-of-factly. “What’s a ‘flat’?”

A twitch of a smile ghosted across Saeran’s mouth. “This.” He gestured to the container of pods that lay on the ground before him. “It’s another way to say tray, I think.” He paused for a moment before offering his name. “I’m Saeran.”

Sam rubbed his nose in response, but sat cross-legged in the grass across from where Saeran worked, his eyes never leaving the task at hand. The two sat in silence while five or so seedlings were grounded. Despite the fact that they were essentially strangers, it was comfortable and easy. A light breeze was blowing, a bird sang somewhere high atop the maple tree on the corner, and Sam’s bike lay in the grass. 

“Think I could plant one?” Sam asked, inching closer to where Saeran was kneeling in the grass, preparing another pod. 

Saeran shrugged. “Sure. I don’t see why not.” He held out the seedling to Sam, who closed the distance between them and thrust out an eager hand. “First, you have to dig a hole. But not too deep, or the roots will die.” He dug a few inches of soil and deposited next to the hole. “Go ahead,” he said. “Put your plant in there.”

Sam obliged, gingerly placing the tiny seedling in its place. “Now what?”

Saeran took a handful of dirt and filled in the gaps around the seedling. “Now you fill it in. See? Then you push the dirt down, so it has a stable place to stand and take root, eventually.” 

Sam followed Saeran’s instructions closely, hanging on every word as he explained what to do and why it needed done in such a particular way.

Once Sam had the hang of it, the two had the small garden space planted in no time at all. What Saeran thought would be an afternoon’s worth of work was done in a matter of a couple of hours. 

“Hey Sam?” he began, lying flat on his back in the grass, arms behind his head. His companion sat cross legged next to him, pawing through the grass for a four-leaf clover.

“Yeah?”

Saeran sighed and sat up, arms around his knees. “Thank you. For your help today,” he offered. “You’re pretty good at this, you know.”

Sam shrugged and stayed focused on his goal. “How come four-leaf clovers are so hard to find?”

“They’re genetic anomalies,” Saeran said. “Could be their environment, too, but it’s most likely a gene mutation.”

Sam just stared at him, sneering. “Huh?”

Saeran couldn’t help but chuckle at his response. “They’re freaks. Weirdos. Like you and me,” he said with a cynical smile, rising to his feet and brushing the grass from his knees. “Look, thanks for your help, but I think I’m done for today.”

The boy nodded and clambered over to his bike. “Can I...can I come back tomorrow? Do you have more stuff to plant?” He looked vaguely hopeful, waiting for Saeran’s answer, his blue eyes wide with anticipation. 

Saeran yawned, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t have any other seedlings, but I do have to water them and keep the weeds pulled. So, sure. If you want to help I guess that’s okay.”

His smile was wide, revealing a gap where one of his front teeth was missing. He hopped on his bike and pedaled away, calling, “See you tomorrow, Saeran!” as he sped off, leaning forward to propel himself faster.

~

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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